


Oh, Shoot

by DoubledDoors



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dom Rick, Drabble, Ficlet, Fighting, It's only Regan if you stand far away and squint, aka good shit, mostly just Negan getting his ass whipped, sub Negan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 06:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12475164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubledDoors/pseuds/DoubledDoors
Summary: Rick beats the living shit outta Negan. Spinoff of S8E1.





	Oh, Shoot

**Author's Note:**

> Rick was the best part of the episode.

_Probably shoulda brought some fuckin’ guns_ , was Negan’s train of thought as bullets ricocheted off the steel shielding him from the Alexandrians. _Jesus fuckin’ Christ._ He hesitantly reached his arm out to grab Lucille before yanking it back as a bullet whizzed through the opening in the sheet of metal, inches from his hand.

His heart was pounding hard and heavy in his chest, the continuous gunfire deafening. _This is it. This is fuckin’ it. Lord have some fuckin’ mercy._ In a few seconds, he was going to be the one pissing his pants. He’d spotted that widow somewhere in the crowd, and the last way he wanted to go was at her hands. Not because it’d be undignified or any of that shit. Just because he was certain it’d be particularly nasty. Beheading even sounded too merciful, he’d guess a bedicking was more up her alley.

A sudden cease in the gunfire made him raise an eyebrow at the ground. “The fuck?” he muttered to himself, not ballsy enough to glance around the corner. He could hear muffled arguing, then quick angry footsteps approaching. _Please be Rick and not that lady, please please ple—_

“ _Negan_ ,” Rick growled in a way that had the man swallowing nervously despite himself. That was not a tone he was used to hearing. He couldn’t remember the last time someone spoke to him like that, as a matter of fact.

Before he could properly formulate a response, Rick had kicked him hard in the chest, sending him sprawling back with a wave of pain.

“Listen, _Negan_ ,” Rick said, face a mask of pure unadulterated rage, “You're gonna stay there. Face against the dirt where it damn well belongs.”

Once it was clear Negan didn't have much to say to that, Rick bent over and picked up Lucille, regarding her with an air of contempt. His fingers felt the worn wood surface, carefully examining the bat in a way that had Negan suspecting he was about to get a taste of his own medicine. But, fortunately at the time, Rick instead sunk into an even deeper rage, his face so stormy and dark Negan felt himself shrink back a little. _Who the hell is this, and where did they take Rick?_

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Rick spat finally, voice dripping venom, “Fuck you and your stupid fucking Saviors and your goddamn fragile masculinity and—” he swung his arm back before whipping it around, heaving Lucille as hard as he could. The bat went positively flying, and Negan watched her disappear over a pile of rubble. _Jesus fuckin’ Christ._

Hands grabbed his jacket, slamming him back into the ground again and again and again, so hard his brain fizzled uselessly and his attempts to claw his assailant away were completely pathetic. The bright blue of Rick's eyes made him clear enough through the pain-fogged haze, but Negan knew this was probably his last hurrah. Those blue eyes were fiery, and the flames from them scalding his skin and leaving him a burnt crisp.

“Listen, you worthless piece of scum,” Rick rasped, holding Negan’s bruised face, “Who do you belong to?”

Somewhere in his head Negan was screaming _You!_ , but that part was buried by confusion and disorientation, the world was still a spinning blur around him.

A heavy punch landed on his cheek, cracking his jaw and yanking a hoarse cry out of his throat. “WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?!” Rick roared, shaking Negan violently.

“Y-you,” Negan finally managed, nauseous and dizzy. He was beyond grateful when Rick stopped shaking him about like a rag doll, and looked up to meet the man’s eyes. He was...amused.

“Of course you’d get hard,” Rick sneered, and it took Negan a few moments to comprehend what the hell Rick was saying. Once he did, he was more acutely aware of the heat coiled tight in his groin, and tried to cover up his horrified shock with a smirk.

“‘Course,” he croaked, “Gotta die like I lived.”

Rick snorted at that and roughly grabbed him by his hair, yanking him up and onto his hands and knees. “You’ll have plenty of time to yourself in jail,” he said, a dark tone just noticeable enough to make Negan pale a bit. Jail? That was way worse than dying. Fuckin’ Christ. However, the thought didn't stick long, as he was soon being dragged along beside Rick, busted leg screaming protest. Pained cries escaped him as he was manhandled across yards of sharp stones and shards of glass, his good leg flailing uselessly to find a foothold.

A car door slammed. _Where…? God. Musta blacked out_ , he realized as he struggled to move. The car jerked forward, and Negan vomited over the seat in front of him, which was luckily unoccupied. A flash of movement then caught Negan’s eye: Rick in the driver's seat, giving him a pitiless look of exasperation.

“Shut up and stay quiet,” Rick said, “I'm taking you to the revisited new world order.”


End file.
